


Method Acting

by elithewho



Category: Hannibal (TV) RPF, Raúl Esparza RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Duct Tape, Face Slapping, Flashbacks, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elithewho/pseuds/elithewho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Richard had suggested they practice the scene in private, away from the set and crew and other distracting influences, Raúl had been all for it. He took his job seriously, he was method from time to time. But when he thought “practice” he had actually thought <i>practice.</i> Not being actually tied to a chair, with actual ropes, like Richard was currently doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Method Acting

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god, I am RPS writing trash. welcome to RPS hell. I wrote this for Morgan's birthday, so you can also blame her! I wrote this before "The Number of the Beast Is 666" aired and I only had a basic idea of how the scene would play out.

Richard pulled hard on the rope tying Raúl’s wrist to the chair arm and Raúl began to get slightly nervous. When Richard had suggested they practice the scene in private, away from the set and crew and other distracting influences, Raúl had been all for it. He took his job seriously, he was method from time to time. But when he thought “practice” he had actually thought _practice._ Not being actually tied to a chair, with actual ropes, like Richard was currently doing. 

But, Raúl thought rather passively as Richard bent down to tie his ankles to the chair after finishing his other wrist, what was the harm? Method was method, after all. He respected Richard, there was no need to insult him. Raúl could feel his heartbeat pick up, but he told himself to just let it happen. His anxiety could be a valuable tool, after all. Useful for when they shot the actual scene.

Raúl wriggled his fingers, grinning a little self-consciously as Richard checked the tightness of the knots. Pretty secure. Richard glanced at him quickly, as if checking for his level of comfort. Raúl gave him a reassuring nod. This was giving him flashbacks to 20 years ago. He swallowed thickly. Probably not a good idea to think about that now.

“Everything OK?” Richard asked lightly, picking up a roll of duct tape. Raúl could swear he was sweating now.

But he nodded anyway. Professional, he was a professional. He could be professional.

Still, he wasn’t sure about the duct tape. It all seemed a little _too_ method. He jumped slightly at the sound of the tape ripping right behind his head. And that familiar smell and feel of silver duct tape on his mouth was definitely bringing back memories.

Richard was standing over him still, moving his hand from over his mouth where he patted the tape firmly to sit loosely across his throat. Raúl shifted uncomfortably, trying to let his anxiety in without letting it overwhelm him. Get some good material for the scene. 

Richard stroked his jaw lightly and Raúl tried not to shiver. He felt all of 24 again, young and impressionable and eager to please. Men like Richard had seemed to like him a lot back then. Tall, much older, possessive in the way they draped an arm over his shoulders, swept a broad thumb over his throat. It made him feel very young to be like this now, although he had been enthusiastic and excited at first about going so method with Richard, working through the craft just one on one, in private. It had sounded extremely appealing. In his youth, he had been far more reluctant, practically bullied into letting them tie him up and do what they wanted. Back then he knew what they wanted, what they would do. With Richard, he knew it wouldn’t be like that. It couldn’t possibly be. 

Still, his body felt extremely warm as Richard continued to stroke his jaw, reciting his lines. Raúl fought the urge to squirm more. He was supposed to be afraid for his life. He was a little scared, but not for his life. He didn’t think what he was feeling was the intended effect of the scene.

Richard was not being especially gentle either. His hand, which had lain loosely on Raúl’s throat, was tightening with every line he recited and he was roughly shaking Raúl’s head, pulling back his jaw with sudden force that startled him. Raúl was reminded powerfully of the first time he had let someone tie him up.

“Let” being a very soft choice of words. He had been so young, so naïve, and this man had been tall and powerfully built, a few decades older and so insistent that Raúl come home with him that in the end he couldn’t refuse. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so lonely, so flattered and easily buttered up by the attention. The man’s hand casually rubbing him between his shoulder blades, kissing him softly behind his ear, whispering how pretty he was, how irresistible. Raúl went with him like a pony following a carrot on a string. His touches had been soft at first, firm but gentle, undressing him quickly, almost too quickly for the state of Raúl’s nerves. But all his weakly muttered protests were met with a firm hand guiding him to the bed, all but manhandling him to lie still and telling him to just enjoy himself. Which was difficult, but also easy. Because he did enjoy it, the rough way the man touched him, held down his arms, soft kisses turning into hard bites, making him squeal. Less easy was staying still, because his natural inclination was to pull away, squirm fitfully when the man fondled his cock, pinched a hard nipple. 

“I told you to keep still,” the man said, chuckling as he pulled off the last of Raúl’s clothing, pinning him to the bed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, face red and hot. It didn’t stop him from yelping and trying to wriggle away when the man’s fingers slipped lightly over his clenched hole. 

The man laughed again, low and rumbling in his chest. He rolled Raúl over, holding his wrists together in two strong hands. Raúl was shaking, trembling with nerves and arousal as the man slipped off his necktie and looped it securely around Raúl’s wrists before he even knew what was happening. Raúl struggled briefly, caught off guard by this sudden development, but the man was now free to keep him firmly on the bed with his full weight bearing down on him, his hand sliding back to the vulnerable curve of his ass, wriggling a finger teasingly between his cheeks.

Being bound had been both frightening and exhilarating, much like many of his early sexual encounters. The danger, the helplessness, much of the humiliation inherent to the situation, had all added to the excitement, whether he wanted that or not. It had been years since he’d let anyone do that to him. And if he was being honest, months since he’d been with anyone at all. Maybe that was why his heart was speeding up at the sensation of Richard’s hands roughly twisting his jaw. He was bound, helpless, gagged, he hadn’t expected to start feeling this way, not for Richard, he was professional, this shouldn’t be happening.

Richard suddenly fell silent in the middle of a sentence. Raúl could imagine why. His cock was throbbing in his pants, obviously hard and bent at an uncomfortable angle since he wasn’t able to adjust himself. He could hear his labored breathing in the sudden silence and he could do nothing but wait for Richard to react, to untie him and send him, hideously embarrassed, on his way.

Slowly, Richard released his jaw. Raúl slumped down in his seat, arms trembling. His wrists were aching from the rope biting into them. That feeling did nothing but excite him further. Richard crouched down in front of him, hands on his knees. He made no move to untie Raúl’s wrists but Raúl could barely look him in the face. It was too mortifying. He didn’t know how he’d live this down.

“Raúl…” Richard muttered in his low, gravelly voice. “Are you enjoying this?”

His tone sounded innocent enough, but Raúl’s eyes flew open at the question. Richard’s gaze pierced him deeply, and he squirmed in the chair unconsciously, his cock aching. 

When Richard reached out to touch him, it wasn’t to untie his wrists. Instead, his hand dropped onto Raúl’s thigh, and with a slow crawl it slid up toward his crotch. Raúl groaned through his gag, heart threatening to burst out of his chest. His face was burning hot and he couldn’t stop twisting and squirming madly as Richard squeezed the thick outline of his cock in his cargo shorts. 

Richard took his time. He was slow, patient, seemingly unconcerned with how Raúl keened and arched toward him. Richard only passively tugged at the hem of Raúl’s shirt, enough so that he could pluck open the button on his pants. Richard’s knuckles dragged across his belly and Raúl whined despite himself. He really was feeling young and his body was following suit. He was so, so close, oversensitive to every touch. If he could speak, he’d be begging Richard to touch him, to please, please make him come.

Instead, all he could do was moan and writhe as Richard worked open his zipper and pulled his pants slowly down his thighs, leaving his boxer briefs where they were as if determined to torment him further. Raúl felt short of breath; he couldn’t seem to pull in enough air through his nose. He was breathily too heavily, and the gag was preventing him from getting enough air in his lungs. He felt dizzy, nearly on the verge of passing out from the combined sensations assaulting him.

Richard smirked, clearly enjoying the spectacle Raúl was making of himself. Raúl tried to glare at him, but whatever offended expression he could muster was ruined when Richard stroked his cock through his briefs, thumbing the head leaking a sticky wet spot through the fabric. Raúl grunted, his briefs rubbing rough against highly sensitive skin, the feeling both familiar and maddening. Richard continued to tease him slowly, watching Raúl struggle and twist with a predatory glint in his blue eyes.

Raúl was beyond any sense of shame, his hips thrusting toward Richard’s hand, desperate for a little more friction. Richard only pulled back, grinning at Raúl’s frustrated whine.

“Keep still,” he said in a low, calm voice.

Raúl’s head was spinning. He was 24 again, hands twisting uselessly behind his back while a man instructed him to keep still. Only that man had fisted his cock firmly, tugged on it almost painfully while his pushed two thick fingers into his ass, lubricated only by Raúl’s own spit. The burning humiliation and arousal had combined to form one sensation, each one fueling the other to greater heights. This, however, was painfully frustrating and Raúl hadn’t been in such a vulnerable, submissive position since his early 30’s. Keeping still just to please Richard was something he would have done when he was in his 20’s and desperate for affection. These days he felt more like acting out, like actively defying him just for the sake of it, despite how it might frustrate him further in the end. For now, he liked the way Richard scowled and raised his eyebrows when Raúl continued to squirm, kept twisting his arms as if trying to break free. There was something dangerous about his expression.

Raúl was right to be concerned. Richard held Raúl by the hips, ostensibly to keep him still, pinned down to the chair. Raúl grunted and wriggled, trying to struggle out of Richard’s grip. Richard reacted so quickly that Raúl didn’t have time to prepare himself for the slap. The hard crack across his cheek made his head snap sideways and he was dizzy, seeing stars exploding in blackness. And moaning helplessly, his balls tightening like he was going to come in his briefs without even a hand around his cock. Richard grinned, cupping Raúl’s cheek to brush his thumb over the stinging red cheek. Raúl whined into his gag, his hips working in tight circles, trying to beg with his eyes. He was always reduced to begging in the end.

Richard only chuckled, but he seemed to take pity on Raúl, who was practically drooling behind his gag. His cupped Raúl’s cock again, giving it a firm squeeze before reaching in his briefs to pull it out, leaving it to bob helplessly in the air, its leaking head painfully red and sore looking. Raúl tried to desperately suck in air through his gag, his whole body shuddering. The sound he made when Richard loosely fisted his bare cock and gave it a few slow jerks was a low, agonized wail.

“Patience… you can be patient for me, right?” Richard muttered, his tone so calm and patronizing that Raúl wanted to do just the opposite. 

He was sick of being patient and accommodating, lying down and letting men do whatever they wanted with his soft, young body. He hadn’t let that happen in years but he was feeling nostalgic and defiant. He moaned wantonly, bucking his hips fretfully to steal the smallest bit of friction from Richard’s wide, calloused hand. The other man grinned, stilling his hand and squeezing just his cock head, hard enough to make him squeal as his profuse precome made his cock too slick and too slippery to be gripped that tightly. 

Raúl rocked restlessly into his hand and when Richard slapped him again on his other cheek, Raúl howled through his gag, beads of sweat stinging painfully in his eyes. Richard didn’t stop touching him though; he was slow, barely even jerking him, grip tightening around him just barely. Raúl worked his hips harder, deliberately sloppy to counteract Richard’s slow, excruciating motion.

Richard slapped him one more time, harder than before, pain and impact making his vision blur. At the same time, he swept his thumb over the head of Raúl’s cock, teasing the leaking slit that was so electrically sensitive Raúl came with the faint taste of blood in his mouth, a coppery tang in the corner of his cheek where his teeth had bit into his skin from the force of the slap. He whined, he shook and twisted, arched off the chair. Now it seemed Richard was intent on jerking him off properly with quick, even strokes, firm and unrelenting as his come splattered his t-shirt and Richard’s forearm. And he didn’t stop, even as his orgasm subsided, leaving him weak and boneless. Raúl shrieked as the blinding pleasure became acutely painful, Richard’s firm, wide hand tugging at overstimulated, oversensitive skin. Raúl’s pitiful whines became high pitched wails of pain and Raúl knew he was being punished for being an insolent punk and he had been punished before and he always loved it, even as he hated it.

Finally, Richard stopped. Raúl sat there panting, aching all over and damp with sweat. His head lolled back as he tried to catch his breath, too worn out to keep his head straight. So when Richard touched his jaw and bent his head forward, Raúl startled. But it was only to rip the duct tape off his mouth. Raúl winced at the sharp sting, but his copious sweat and spit from panting and moaning had dampened much of the tape around his mouth. Raúl flexed his jaw, trying to shake out the strained muscles in his face.

“Alright?” Richard said in a low, husky voice.

Raúl nodded shakily. His voice felt too strained to possibly speak. Richard was still bent over, looking at him with hooded eyes, his cock obviously hard in his trousers.

Raúl chuckled. He knew there was a good reason Richard had ungagged his mouth but kept his hands and feet tied to the chair.


End file.
